Star Crossed
by sitra ahra
Summary: Two seekers in love.
1. Chapter 1

All is Jo's none is mine.

I'd be eternally grateful if you review.

This fic is the product of many, but I claim any and all flaws contained in it.

Warnings:

Rated: R

First time writer.

Gary-stu alarm. Excuse: We know little about Cedric and/or his social circle, so I had to create some original characters.

**Star Crossed** by D.c.

Chapter I

"If then lovers have been ever crosse'd, It stands as an edict in destiny: Then let us teach out trial patience, Because it is a customary cross, As due to love as thoughts and dreams and sighs, Wishes and tears, poor fancy's followers." (Act I Scene I) _Mid-Wizard Night's Dream_

Cedric Diggory woke up at dawn. Shifting in his bed, spreading his legs to, unconsciously, accommodate his very sizable erection. He began to listen to the wind outside, to the tiny droplets of morning rain that hesitantly hit the windows, and the small sounds of stirring bodies and shuffling blankets. He remembered the dream and breathed deeply, feeling discomfiture yet oddly pleased. Without really thinking to do it, the hand that had lain casually on his chest slipped down his body to his penis, thumbing the head of it, and feeling for the tiny little hole and the pre-cum that beaded out, holding the trunk of his cock hard and fast making his hand emulate a hole as closely as it could.

The dream had started badly. He was running in a maze and he heard the voice of his now diseased lover screaming at him from all sides so that he didn't know where to run to. Suddenly, he had been sucked out of the maze, lifted up as if by a giant hand and hurtled toward Hogwarts. Cedric screamed to be taken back, but he couldn't move his hands, they felt slow and clumsy trying to search for his wand under his robes. He felt impotent, paralyzed, and he heard the thumping of his heart like a drum, echoing.

Down, down, down, Cedric fell into the lake, all the way down into the muddy water, darkness all around him, choking he tried to scream, but it was as if the darkness covered up the sounds and there was a great silence where the drums had been. At last, he hit muddy bottom and algae quivered under him, hypnotic and beckoning. All of a sudden, a hand tugged at his robes, pulling him upwards with such force that once he broke water he felt like he was falling into the sky instead of flying toward it. Could it be—could it be Gabriel, come to rescue him?

Yet his dark-haired lover was dead now, wasn't he?

Images threw themselves upon him, and he couldn't really see or focus on anything. Flashes of unicorns dying, hippogriffs burning, plummeting toward the earth, flying maggots eating at the foundations of Hogwarts, and then…

Harry Potter squirming and moaning wantonly below him, and he was entering the boy, pushing his manhood in and out of the tightened opening, undulating his hips like Gabriel had taught him in order to skillfully caress that magical place inside a man's body that made the coldest lover quiver with pleasure. The boy's face was suffused with blood, an expression that quavered between ecstasy and pain, breathing so harshly it sounded as if his lungs were filled with sand, exhaling between each thrust: "I'm here, I'm here." Harry's body began to shake, his eyes staring at Cedric in disbelief and as the young boy began to orgasm—

His eyes popped open.

And as he tried to reach his own lonely climax—

"Cedric?" said Kane, scrambling into bed next to Cedric, snuggling up to him and inadvertently removing any chance for a decent culmination. "Oy, luv, what do you have under there?"

"Leave it alone, Kane, you've done enough," said the Golden Boy, frowning and yet not managing to feel truly angry toward the rascally young Hufflepuff.

"Wish you'd allow me to help you with that," countered Kane, smirking a little and winking at Cedric, not really expecting invitation. "I heard you talking in your sleep, must have been some liquid dreams, eh?"

"Don't get too excited, it's just morning glory," said Cedric, poking Kane in the ribs.

"Was that your finger, Cyd? Very glorious it is too," said Kane, flicking his straight hair out of his face and pretending to pull back the covers.

"Go back to your bed, K. I don't want rumors started that we're…" said Cedric, motioning vaguely with his hands.

"Don't want your reputation ruined? Extra! Extra, read all about it! Jap Lothario in bed with Golden Boy Huffle-seeker!" said Kane in a high, falsetto voice.

"Keep your voice down," whispered Cedric, distractedly running his fingers through his hair, his eyes on the bed canopy.

"What's wrong, Cyd? There's something on your mind," said the fellow Hufflepuff absentmindedly tracing his finger on Cedric's face, from forehead to chin.

"I'm not telling you," said Cedric with only half a smile.

"Why not?" said Kane.

"I know how close you are to the Oriental Gang, my luv, I haven't forgotten," the smile having frozen on his face.

"You mean Chang and the Parvatis?"

"Who else?"

With a stifled sigh, Kane continued, "You're still going on about that? That was a year ago."

"They still speak of it," said Cedric, lowering his voice further.

"They have nothing else to talk about, the pathetic little girls with pathetic little lives—

"That you love to gossip with."

"Yes," this time he did not stifle his sigh, "Yes. Look, luv, I was drunk and she had given me a most delicious little morsel of news. A morsel of news that coincidentally provided me regular amounts of prime-cut arse for quite a few months. I could only repay one confidence for another, and my judgment was impaired. As you have repeatedly reminded me for the past year, the confidence should have been my own and not yours. I apologized, you said you had forgiven me. That's that. I really don't know how to tell you how very sorry I am."

"I understand, and I've forgiven you, but I can't forget, not just yet."

"It's not fair, Cyd-luv, you know that it came out in the papers a week later," said Kane, exasperation in his voice.

"Yes, and it might have been a week less of torture and murmuring. It was awful the way people came up to me with their hideous condolences."

"You dreamt of him, didn't you? This is where the dark thoughts and erection the size of China, comes from," said Kane, touching his shoulder and insinuating himself closer to the seeker.

"Why did you never like him? Why did you never like—like—Gabriel?" said Cedric, moving away from Kane in order to stare into his eyes.

"Cyd, Cyd, Cyd, it's not that I didn't like him. It's just…well, he was where I wanted to be. Metaphorically and literally, my friend."

"You've never wanted more than a shag, with me Kane. I mean, you've wanted many shags—

"You've only given me one."

"Yes, but the point is—

"The whole monogamy thing. I think it's just ridiculous. The Muggles have infiltrated our sexual culture at an alarming rate, my dear," said Kane, laying his head on Cedric's chest and gently touching one of his nipples.

"The Diggorys have always been monogamous, Kane. I don't really know what you're talking about," replied Cedric, idly swatting Kane's hand away.

"I could try monogamy for you," said Kane, slipping his hand down Cedric's chest, following the trail the golden boy had wandered only minutes earlier.

"And you would fail," sliding out of bed as Kane's hand lay hold of his shaft.

"Slippery little bugger, aren't you?" said Kane, plopping his head back on the pillow, "You should have been a Slytherin, except you're handsome, have good hair, aren't anti-social and don't have any problem with color coordination."

"I thought you liked how Snape dressed," said Cedric, pulling on a pair of boxers.

"Yes, well, I enjoy that whole S&M scene," said Kane, looking at Cedric and languidly stroking his nether regions.

"You're obscene, and I'm getting dressed, so go away."

"Alright, it's the undressing part I like to stay for," and with that the beautiful Japanese boy trounced back to his own bed.

Midsummer Night's Dream


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter II

_Parastastes, the Cretan word for boyfriend, means "**him who stands beside me in battle**."_

The Boy Who Lived awakened that morning full of expectations. That week he had seen Cedric, the seeker for the Hufflepuff team, around the halls and had been contaminated by the Diggory-mania, as Hermione called it, along with the rest of the giggling fan girls. Cedric had always been very popular, but now that everyone knew of the tragic loss of one of his friends and he had become a damned good seeker, the craze had reached its peak. At last, his Quidditch game against the Golden Boy was coming, Hufflepuff vs. Griffindor.

Diggory, as he was obliged to call the older boy, had wished him luck in the upcoming game and had even taken to speaking to him in short, random intervals about his favorite Quidditch teams. As a result, Harry had unexpectedly begun to tidy himself up a bit, glancing at his own reflection every once in a while in vain hopes of seeing some improvement. His hair was as untidy as ever, and his appearance bore that disheveled quality that was seen as disarmingly charming or patently unattractive depending on whom you asked.

Hermione, the ever watchful little owl, had caught on to something and asked Harry why he, for the 10th time in the space of an hour was smiling to himself and stroking his lips, when his natural mood state was more than slightly melancholic. He had no reply for her, except to state that on this, a most marvelous of days he would play with—against Cedric Diggory. In his own heart of hearts, he hoped to win. To show himself worthy of admiration, and not just for being The Boy Who Lived (he deplored the title which only reminded him of those who had died) but simply as one of the very best seekers Hogwarts had ever produced. After all, Cedric really seemed to love skilled playing. Harry remembered how his eyes would light up whenever he mentioned a particularly able score, a particularly able player.

And was Cedric worthy of admiration? Whether he won or lost, Dear Merlin, YES! He was Cedric Maria Diggory, beautiful, modest, fair, popular. The stereotypical Hufflepuff. Which made him a catch by Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff standards. (The Slytherins seemed to go for the balding, weird, shoeless, pasty-faced, snake-look.)

And then it had all gone to hell.

With a pounding, blinding pain in his head, and refusing to open his eyes just yet, Harry vaguely recalled the exultation and joy he had felt just that morning. A day, a life, full of possibilities, in which Cedric smiled benignly up at him as he caught the ever crafty little snitch. The full force of what had really happened struck him, and he was filled with humiliation and dread. Harry had lost the bloody snitch, because of those sodding Dementors. The infernal things had gone after him and he hadn't been able to enact the Patronus or catch the snitch in time. He had only one hope, that Cedric had NOT caught the snitch and that the game had been postponed once it was seen that the Gryffindor seeker was not likely to recuperate in time. At last, unable to take the suspense, Harry Potter opened his eyes.

"Har- Potter? Potter? Are you alright?"

As his eyes adjusted to the light, sparks of star-like images blinking before him, desperate thoughts invaded his brain. Dear Merlin, no please, let him not be him. Was his hair untidy? When wasn't it? How do I look? Like crap, most likely. Yes, damn me, it's him.

The blurry outline of Cedric's beautiful face loomed above him. As Harry reached out to put on his glasses he felt a hand on his head, caressing his forehead, and then stroking his cheek gently as one would an anxious child. Harry's hands shook a bit as he put on his glasses, and he smiled, producing something between a grin and a grimace. Looking around then, he realized he was in the infirmary. The Terrible Two, as they were now calling Ron & Hermione in face of the terrible jungle-like sounds they made during love-making, sat staring fretfully at him from one corner of the room as Cedric continued his ministrations.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, he didn't really know how he felt, just at that moment Madame Pomfrey barged into the room. Matter-of-factly, she pushed Cedric out of the way and began touching his head, examining his eyes, tongue, toes and elbows, at last giving him something which tasted a bloody lot like vomit while murmuring to herself about the dangers of Quidditch and the proposed ban on the sport, which now seemed to her like a good idea. "It's not enough that we have that blasted Black around and those dastardly Dementors…" The furious healer looked around the room, peering into the concerned faces of Ron, Hermione and the dreaded, divine Diggory and told them quite firmly that they could not stay more than a few minutes.

"Please, let him—them stay," Harry heard himself saying.

But what the bugger was Cedric doing here? And why was Cedric staring at him that way? And what in the hell was wrong with him, that he fainted like a Lockheart whenever the Dementors came his way?

"What—what happened?" he asked, suddenly not wanting to know.

"Well, we lost, obviously—ouch!" Ron exclaimed as Hermione poked him harshly in the ribs.

"A little sensitivity, please!"

After they told him what had occurred, he threw himself back on the pillow remembering too late to pretend not to look too dejected.

Cedric, appearing abashed said: "I'm sorry, Potter. We shouldn't have won. I was so intent on the snatch—snitch, I mean. When I saw you falling I tried to catch you but I just wasn't fast enough…"

His face transformed in alarm, as he relived Harry's fall in his head. Unconsciously, Cedric took Harry's hand, pressing it.

"No, no, it's alright, really." Harry couldn't quite pretend he wasn't disappointed at losing, but Cedric's hand was a nice little compensation prize. He had never expected this reaction, and he thought, some-what smugly, that he would have to fall off his room more often. Smiling to himself he said, "It's not like it was you, your fault, I mean, unless you sent those Dementors after me?" He tried to chuckle and winced.

Cedric lifted Harry's torso expertly off the bed, fluffing his pillow and placing him in a more comfortable position. "Harry, you should really rest now. Madame Pomfrey will be angry at us if we stay here much longer. We'll come back to visit you later, is that alright?"

As they all filed out, throwing reassuring gestures in his way Harry seemed unable to utter a single word. He felt very strange at having Cedric speak to him as if they were life-long friends, instead of people who barely knew each other. In all his short life, Harry had never had an easy time meeting people, his circumstances had left him unequipped for it.

In the Muggle World, those of his own age never tried to find out who he really was. They assumed that they knew him from what the Dursleys said about him, and from his messy hair and his disheveled appearance. In the Wizarding World, people were just as prejudiced, having grown up with the myth of him as the Boy Who Lived their heads were filled with so many preconceptions there was no room for the real Harry within them. At this moment, his mind turned back to Cedric and the bizarre attention he was getting from the older boy. He was probably just being nice, Harry reasoned, after all he appeared to be very popular. Always laughing, always talking and joking with his multitude of friends and with that Kane fellow, the beautiful Japanese bloke girls seemed to go crazy for.

But…someone in his family had died, or was it a friend? Everyone spoke about how it hadn't seemed to affect his disposition at all, about how well he was bearing up, but Harry had begun to observe Cedric, closely and discretely, when he did not think himself watched and the younger boy had noticed something very close to his own sensibilities, a certain cloud of gloom that seemed to settle on him in moments of solitude, a shadow in his beautiful blue eyes. The way the Golden Boy had looked at him as he pressed Harry's hand, it was filled with concern, but there was something else there latently pumping underneath.

&&&&&&

Walking through the corridors of Hogwarts with Hermione and Ron in tow, talking about Black and the ever pervasive presence of the Dementors, Harry couldn't help but turn his mind to Cedric. It was ridiculous that he would be filled so completely with this infatuation, but it was as if his mind, body and soul had conspired against him and they were all fixated on an impossible object of desire. If only Cedric had not come to the infirmary, to inflame him with vain hopes and fantastic illusions, he could focus on the real problems at hand, to the fact that he had to defend himself from that murderous Black, to the fact that he had to find out what really happened all those years ago.

"So," said Hermione looking sideways at him with a wicked expression on her face, "what do you think of the Golden Boy of the Hour, Cedric Diggory, Seeker Extraordinaire?"

"What? Who?" Hermione's accuracy into the very nature of his thoughts, shocked him into an extreme sense of exposure and he couldn't help but look around to see if anyone was listening.

"Right," said Hermione, smirking.

"Well, he's a nice bloke, I suppose," said Harry, gesturing vaguely, and noticing the nervousness revealed in his hands shoved them in his pockets through his open robes.

"Do. You. Like. Him," said Hermione, bumping into him playfully.

"I don't dislike him," replied Harry cagily, "do you like him?"

"It's not me he's worried about, my dear, it's not my hand he's pressing, it's not about me he's asking after to my friends."

"He's been asking after me? To you? He's just a very nice--

"—bloke, yes, I know," said Hermione.

Ron eyed them dangerously, saying, "Hmm, what are you both babbling on about?"

"We're not babbling, Ron," said Hermione with some asperity, "it's nothing sexy, if that's what you're insinuating, so don't get your wand in a knot."

"You know, I really detest that expression, it was probably witty the first 50 times you said it. Anyway, I just want to know why my best girl and my best mate are whispering like two naughty, numb-brained school girls."

"First of all Ron, I don't know if you've noticed," said Hermione taking Ron's arm, "but I AM a school girl, and second of all you'd not be interested in the least, believe me."

"I don't believe you," replied Ron softening his tone, "would you allow me to be the judge of that? You really shouldn't keep secrets from me, you know. I AM your boyfriend."

"So you keep telling me," said Hermione rolling his eyes, "So…perhaps, you can give me a hint to what exactly lies under your mattress?"

"Other than you, you mean? None of your business, you silly tart."

"Tsk, tsk, I lie _on_ your mattress every time I fake an orgasm, my dear, not under it."

"Bloody hell, you do not! Take it back!"

Hermione giggled in reply and kissed Ron, taking him, and half the school, by surprise.

&&&&&

Why had Hermione said such things? Harry kept thinking about their conversation all through Potions, while he was supposed to be measuring the exact quantities of balamander sperm. How was he supposed to speak to Cedric again now that he realized exactly the nature of his feelings toward the boy? But did he, did he truly know exactly what he felt? Not really, but he knew it wasn't affection or friendship. It was lust, perhaps passion.

Passion. Harry realized almost subconsciously that his character was such that he reserved his most passionate sentiments for the negative aspects of his life. For Voldemort, for those who choose to make his life miserable and those he loved miserable. To feel such powerful emotions toward a possibly positive thing, toward a love affair, confused and unnerved him.

Suddenly a familiar voice crept into his consciousness; he heard his name repeated over and over as if from a great distance. Harry flicked a hand over his face as if swatting a fly.

"Potter," his name cut through the air like an acid whip, "Once again, I've asked you to enumerate the poisonous qualities of the Dead Sea Balamander, you will do so on the count of ten or face dire consequences." Snape's pasty face loomed above him, shocking him into alertness, "One, two, ten."

"Dire? Oh, yes, well, um, I believe, er, that—the poisonous qualities of the Dead Sea—wait they're not poisonous."

&&&&&&

"Blimey, Harry, that was a close one," said Ron snorting.

"Damn right that was close, I thought I was going to have to do detention 'till the end of term, at the very least," said Harry, shaking his head.

"Until the end of the century more like. By and by, are you going to Hogsmeade next week?" said Ron, putting his arm over Harry's shoulders.

"I don't know, I can't. I mean, I don't think I can. My permission slip is not signed, the Durseley's – well, you know the story."

"Hi, Harry."

Cedric had sidled up to Harry in such a sudden way, it seemed as though the boy had apparated at his side. Disengaging him from Ron's grasp he slap shook the red-head's unsuspecting hand, then veering the black-haired boy to one side, expertly holding his elbow and smiling in the irresistible open way of his said, "Would you like to go with me to Hogsmeade?"


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you very much for reading this and reviewing. It warms my slashy heart.

Disclaimer: Not my toys, they are Jo's. Sue me and you get my dirty boxers.

Warnings:

Rated: R

Also, I'm going to be using Athenian and Spartan terms interchangeably, if you have a problem with that I'm sorry. It was done intentionally and for my own reasons, but I understand if that's a turn-off to you as readers.

Chapter III

"There can be no greater benefit for a boy than to have a worthy male lover…nor for a lover than to have a worthy object of his affection." Platonius the Bizzare (_Wizard's Symposium_)

The night before the trip to Hogsmeade, Harry had a recurring nightmare. No, not the one with strange, once handsome Half-blood with delusions of grandeur, nor the one with the murderous man escaped from a prison whose name reminds of Arabian deserts, no, not even the one with Harry himself, naked as a baby, playing at the Quidditch World Cup for the Canons.

On this night, Harry's nightmare consisted of the much anticipated Hogsmeade visit. He wondered how they would solve the nasty little problem of the unsigned permission slip. The Boy Who Lived tortured himself all week with nagging doubts as to the exact purpose of outing. Was it an outing between friends, or was it a date between would-be lovers? He had dreaded seeing Cedric in the halls and yet his eyes sought-out the Golden Boy every time he was out of his Dorm room.

"Ask him already," prompted Hermione, shaking her bushy hair out of her face.

"Ask who, what?" said Harry, unconvincingly. "I can't," he burst forgetting to pretend ignorance. "I can't just go over to him and say, 'Erm, is this a date? I mean you delicious hunk of Hufflepuff flesh, are you going to be snogging me? Because if you are I'll be wearing my emerald colored turtleneck, it really brings out my green-toad eyes."

"Harry, look at me," said Hermione, a twinkle in her eyes.

"Yes?" said Harry suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.

"Wear your turtleneck."

In the dream Harry arrived at a romantic restaurant with Cedric, they asked for what the older boy informed him was the best Gorgon meat made in these parts. Cedric would then order a bit of contraband muggle wine (which seemed to work quite magically on the senses. Harry felt unbalanced and happy, he knew his speech was slurred and that everything Cedric said sounded terribly profound and hilarious simultaneously. The lights dimmed and before he knew it he had leaned it, pushing his tongue insistently inside the Golden Boy's mouth.

What happened next left him so horrified and filled with dread, he would not go to sleep again that night in fear of reliving it.

Standing up, Cedric would upset the table, his face would transform with fury and he would scream at the top of his lungs, "How could you do this! I was your friend and you do this to me!"

"Oh—oh," Harry seemed unable to say a single word, the humiliation combined with the hopelessness he felt left him mute.

"Who do you think I am! A MALFOY!

At this point Harry would wake up screaming, "No, no, no." This had happened every night for a week, and Justin, who was Neville's current lover, apparently had enough of the interruptions and yelled from across the room, "Harry, seriously mate! Unless Ron is raping you, would you please, PLEASE have the kindness and affability to SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"What do you think looks better?" said a shirt-less Cedric presenting two shirts to an ogling Kane, "This one or this one."

"Dear Merlin, not that I don't mind getting asked, specially since it affords me an opportunity to look at your gorgeous bod, but are you seriously asking me this? You've turned into an uber dandy," said the Japanese hufflepuff appreciatively smiling.

"Afraid I'll take away your title of Dandy King? No, Kane, not seriously asking, I'm just nervous about it all," said Cedric, throwing the shirts on his bed and putting deodorant on.

"What _about_ exactly?" said Kane, bouncing on the bed taking care to wrinkle the shirts as much as possible. "Is it a shag-a-virgin, is it infatuation, or is it—is it—

"I want to become his Inspirer, I think he needs one," said Cedric, looking at himself in the mirror and combing his hair.

Kane looked up sharply, "Oh, ho-ho-ho, Cyd this is some serious business. You barely know the enfant and you want to marry the babe. Be his Protector?" said Kane, with a mirthless laugh.

"What's so wrong with that? Tell me. He needs Protection, I'm available, qualified, and I'm attracted to him. He has those qualities which, well, I can't explain it. I'm not like you Kane, good with words and ready thinking, but I think I could easily fall in love with him."

"He's earnest, like you, I don't doubt he'll make a nice little Listener, goggle eyes, giggles and all. So, that's good," looking directly into Cedric's eyes, "you've gotten over Gabriel."

Cedric paled considerably and swallowed, "I'll never get over Gabriel."

"I'm sorry, Cyd-luv, I didn't mean that. I know," Kane sighed and putting his arms around Cedric whispered, "It was jealousy talking."

"I'll always love you, Kane, but now that you've been so horrid to me—

"Here it comes," said Kane releasing him and rolling his eyebrows, "What do you want?"

"Can you please give this to Harry? I don't want him to worry about the Hogsmeade visit."

"Cyd, you're insane, there's no way in Palla I'm giving this note to the Boy Who Lived But Can't Comb His Hair. You know how repulsed I am by any and all clichés. Find someone else to send him this misbegotten note," said Kane, sneering.

"Don't sneer Kane, you look like a Malfoy," said Cedric, laughing, pushing the note inside the fellow Hufflepuff's pocket.

"I could not look like a Malfoy no matter how much I sneered, they have a tragic predilection for the most unattractive hair-styles," said Kane, shaking his stylish mane, "Alright then, I'll see that it gets to him."

"Thank you," said Cedric, trying to straighten his wrinkled shirt.

"You're very welcome," said Kane, walking to the door, stopping suddenly while holding on to the doorknob, "Oh, by the way Cyd, be sure to get first dips on the Potter-boy, because Percy's up in line right after you."

"What? I thought Oliver was with Percy, you said—"

"He is, but it's his duty as a Weasely's. That scary Molly woman would expect it, now wouldn't she? I've heard she consider Potter his son. So you better slip something else in there," said Kane suggestively moving his hips, "so that you can slip something else in there," and he jumped out of the room before the Commemorative Snitch hit him.

&&&&&&&&&&&

Harry had read the note Parvati had given to him, but he still felt scared at giving a blank piece of parchment to Filch, so he brought his invisibility cloak and tucked it in his pocket, just in case. As he took out the paper, Filch poked at him with a stick and said dreamily, "Move along Potter, we don't have all day," not bothering to even glance at the parchment.

"Mental," muttered Harry to himself his eyes immediately scanning the area for any sign of Cedricness.

"'Lo, Green-Eyes," Cedric looked strangely pleased with himself.

"Did you do something to Filch?" he asked as Cedric inadvertently pecked him on the cheek.

"Only gave him a bit of a daydream, one might say. You'll study them soon enough, don't worry."

"What about?" he said breathlessly, still reeling over the peck on the cheek.

"The daydream? Mrs. Norris in a bathing suit," said Cedric, smiling.

Harry laugh, but a second later became quiet. The golden boy, noticing the sudden change of attitude frowned and looked side-ways at him.

"Diggory," said Harry seriously.

"Yes, Mr. Potter," mocked the older boy with a weak smile.

"Are we—I mean when you invited me to come with you to Hogsmeade—

"Yes?"

Something had occurred to Harry: if he knew what they were about to do, where they were to go, then he would certainly be able to guess where their relationship stood, wouldn't he? Whether it was friendship or, possibly, something more intimate?

"What is it Harry? You don't want to go with me anymore? Changed your mind," he seemed to be trying to laugh, but the laughter caught in his throat.

"No, I mean yes, I mean I want to go with you, it's just I'd like to know what you had planned for us" finished Harry, flagellating himself mentally for being such a blubbering fool.

"Oh," the older boy sighed apparently relived, "well, I was thinking we could go to Honeydukes, eat some fudge there, then to Rosemerta's for a couple of pints of butterbeer. Some of my friends will meet at Zonko's and then we can have a quiet talk at Puddifoot's."

Damn it, when he put it like that it all sounded so innocent. Well, perhaps it was all innocent. That's how it was with Cedric, one way or the other, it was all innocent.

"Harry? Harry?" Cedric looked anxiously into Harry's eyes. Harry had been thinking none too innocent thoughts himself.

"Yes, sorry, yes, that sounds great."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Everything had gone excellently, that is until Harry overheard Rosemerta and Cornelius Fudge talking about Sirius Black in the street. The two boys had bought some candy and fudge at Honeydukes. Cedric had insisted on paying for the whole thing himself, but Harry had argued against it, not realizing that the only way the argument made any sense was if they were really going to be seeing a whole lot of each other.

Passing Zonko's they saw some strangely bizarre new potions on the window and although it was too early to meet Cedric's friends, prodded by their curiosity, they had gone in. Browsing through the shelves, Harry overheard a fourth year from Slythering talking to her friend about how Cho Chang had potioned-up a boy to make her fall in love with her and how when the concoction had gone wrong, it had given the boy diarrhea for a week.

It was on the way to The Three Broomsticks, both boys with hands inside their pockets, elbows touching, that he heard the adults talking about Black, and how they needed the Dementors to protect "the Potter boy."

"Harry, what do you think they meant—the Dementors here to protect you?"

"Cedric, I'll explain everything to you later and I'm sorry we have to interrupt our… outing like this, but I simply must know what they're talking about."

"Yes, of course, but what are you going to do?" the older boy instantly started looking at the foundations and the roof of The Three Broomsticks for a place to climb.

"Don't worry, I've got this," and before Cedric could utter a word, he had covered himself with the Invisibility cloak and was running up the stairs into Rosemerta's private rooms above the cavern.

Hearing about how his parents had been betrayed had sent Harry into a horrible shock. He had run out of the Three Broomsticks, bumped into Cedric and kept running. The young boy knew someone was running after him, heard footsteps behind him, but didn't really know what to do about it, he just knew that when he stopped he'd have to do something and he wasn't prepared. He wasn't prepared.

Finally, he collapsed, his knees buckled and the cloak fell off him like snake skin.

"He killed—killed—he—I spending time with you—today—I just wasn't—wasn't—Oh, Merlin, why—

"Harry, Harry what is it?" said Cedric, kneeling next to him.

Harry didn't answer, but curled himself into a ball, closing his eyes. Usually he kept his emotions hidden, but the day had left him without armor and he couldn't react with his typical compunction.

"Come here, Harry, come with me," Cedric helped the younger boy to his feet without looking at him.

They walked a long while without talking, away from Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, up a great hill. "I'm sorry Cedric," said Harry, keeping his eyes on the ground below him. The older boy lifted his hand and shook his head, still not looking at Harry.

Since Harry had been looking down the whole time they were climbing the hill, the view caught him so unexpectedly that he gasped, "Dear Merlin, wow. It's incredible." He could see the castle of Hogwarts from a distance, the lake, Hogsmeade and the beautiful mountains that surrounded the whole, and it was truly spectacular.

"I know, my love, it is. I knew you'd love it. I come up here when it all gets to be too much and I want to clear my head," said the Golden Boy with an introspective expression in his face which surprised Harry. Surprised him so much, he heard himself saying, "Why won't you look at me?"

Cedric then looked into his face intensely, the beautiful eyes burning holes into him like spheres made of fire, "I thought you didn't want me to." Harry looked down, flushing, he let his mouth open a bit, feeling short of breath, and before he knew it he was in the older boy's arms, the hard musculature of an athlete pressed against him, a hungry mouth ravishing his own tentative one. Cedric's hands pressed him down into the ground, and he felt his thighs swiftly parted by impatient knees, the hardness of a crotch pressed between his legs, forcing against a place he didn't yet have a name for.

"Cedric, wait." Cedric tore himself from Harry's body so swiftly the black haired boy felt bereft. Had he meant wait? Now it seemed he had meant go on, don't stop, don't ever stop. Harry felt his swollen lips, and realized he wasn't wearing his glasses anymore, that place between his legs that he had never even thought of was throbbing in time with his cock, with his ass, his toes pressing down into the ground as if they were bound by gravitation.

"I'm sorry," said Cedric laughing nervously, "I suppose I got carried away." The Golden Boy walked around a bit, and looked at the incredible panorama again, though he looked a bit distracted.

"It's alright, I," Harry looked up at Cedric, "liked it."

"You'd like to do that again? In the future, I mean?" said Cedric, watching his face.

"Do you come here alone?" replied Harry, standing up, squinting, searching for his glasses.

"Is that your way of asking me if I do this often, with others? Why don't you just ask me things directly, Harry?" said Cedric, rescuing Harry's glasses and putting them on himself.

"Because, I don't know-- give me those," said Harry laughing as Cedric lifted the glasses just high enough so that he couldn't reach. "Hey, not fair."

"You are fair, but I'm taller," said Cedric, stealing a kiss, "Hmm?" stealing another.

"So you come here by yourself?" said Harry, moving away and sitting on a rock.

"Yes, when I feel really alone, I like to come here," giving back the glasses.

"Ha. You come here alone when you feel alone?" said the black-haired boy.

"Yes, I know it sounds weird, but—

"No," said Harry, breathing on his hands, pulling his coat closer to his body and looking at the mountains, at the castle, at the lake again, "it's not. It's not weird at all."

"I can't always express myself too well, Harry, I'm not like Kane. He's a ready thinking, ready talking kind of bloke. But when I come up here, away from all the people who call themselves my friends, away from all the responsibilities, from my duties to my school, to my parents. I just feel free here, and I wanted you to have this too, this freedom. I've seen you," said Cedric running his hands through his hair, "look so incredibly melancholic sometimes, like you've got the world on your back. You don't have to tell me about what happened at Rosemerta's if you don't want to, I know you'll tell me when you're ready."

He stopped speaking, looking at Harry, "You can come here alone too, and later, when we—when it becomes more, perhaps I can show you something else."

"Perhaps you can."

&&&&&&&&&&&

"It was incredible Kane," said Cedric as soon as he came into the room, taking off his shirt, and throwing it on the bed. "I'm telling you, it was—

He stopped, realizing he had just walked in on Kane having sex with a Slytherin. "Was it," said Kane, as if he wasn't pumping himself into a boy, "well, that's good, yeah—that's – that's very good." He climaxed, and pulled himself out, slapping the boy's ass and telling him, "Bye-bye- bird, how lovely it was, thank you for the shag, best I ever had."

"Dear, Merlin," said Cedric pulling his shirt back on feeling a mix of disgust and hilarity, watching as Kane threw the Slytherin out of the room without even letting the poor soul get his pants on.

"Not the best I ever had, really," said Kane closing the door, "but I don't like to be unkind, you know my soft, soft --"

"Hmmph, right. Well, let's get some inscense going here, shall we?"said Cedric, lighting a stick.

"What for? They should make sex-scented inscence. Sex scented candles, sex-scented perfume. I'd wear it."

"I don't doubt it."

"How did it go, my friend? Did you have a nice time," said Kane lifting his eyebrows, "or did you have a nice time," making an obscene gesture with his hand.

"I had a beautiful time, it was incredible. He needs me so much, more than I thought, Kane. There's something hounding that boy, it has to do with Black. It's really amazing. I really want to be his Inspirer," said the Golden Boy sitting on the bed.

"Did you ask him?" said Kane, looking archly at him.

"Not yet," said Cedric throwing himself back on the bed, his arms under his head.

"Does he know about it?"

"What do you mean? You think he doesn't know? Dear Athena, of course. He was brought up by Muggles, and only the Old Families do it anyway, it's considered too old-fashioned by anyone else."

"I could tell his friend, Hermione, to give him a crash course," said Kane, shrugging, digging into his drawers and taking out an apple.

"You know her?" said Cedric, looking suspiciously at the fellow Hufflepuff.

"Of course," said Kane bitting into the apple, "she's a girl."

"Yes, of course. You propositioned her?" said Cedric.

"Ummhmm. I," Kane swallowed, "in their first year."

"Isn't that a little young? Do you have another apple in there? I'm starving, we never went to Puddifoot's."

"Dear Palla, now that would have been embarrassing," said Kane throwing him an apple.

&&&&&&&&&

The next Monday the whole school knew Harry and Cedric were going together.

"Say Potter."

Harry seethed, "Damn that git, what does he want now. "

"Is it true?" said Draco Malfoy, smirking, allowing a strategically placed bang to fall near his eye. "Is poor, scardy-wee Potty going out with _Golden Boy_ Cedric." The way he spat out the title almost made it sound derogatory.

Harry gave Draco what Kane latter called "The Avada Kedavra Look," yet decided admirably to remain silent. Cedric had warned him that some people would talk and that it would probably even reach the Daily Prophet, but that he shouldn't worry. The warning speech had warmed him at the time, but had left him quite unprepared for how he felt in face of the constant murmuring and direct attacks. In the past when people had spoken about him behind his back, it had all been petty speculation and paltry rumors that did not amount to much. Now they were smearing his private life, both underhandedly and directly, and he felt they had crossed the line. Harry realized he'd rather they went back to fearing him or pitying him, than having them corrupt his budding relationship with pernicious innuendo.

Ron and Hermione, arrived at that moment, and joined Harry throwing nasty looks at the beautiful Slytherin boy.

"Shut up, Malfoy, you don't know anything about it," said Ron, standing between the boys.

"Move out of the way Weasely, go back to snogging the Mudblood, that's all you're really good for," said Draco dismissively, all the while looking into Harry's eyes.

"Malfoy," said Hermione pursing her lips and looking sternly at the amused-looking Draco, "you sound like a six-year-old. What's next on your repertoire of silly ad hominem attacks? I know what you are, but what am I?"

"Yeah," said Ron, still a little stumped by the words 'ad hominem', "what Hermione said."

"Stay out of it, Mudblood, Mudblood-lover," said Draco with a sneer on his face, "I know exactly what he is," flicking his index finger in Harry's general direction, "and if he thinks that his little incursion into old magic is going to serve him, he's very mistaken."

What the hell was Draco talking about?

"Harry, is it true? Are you going for an Erastes? Poor Percy, he was so happy with Oliver, I suppose he'll have to try out for you now," said Ron.

"What the hell are YOU talking about?" said Harry, exasperatingly running his hands through his hair, unconsciously mimicking his boyfriend's quirk, and succeeding only in getting his fingers stuck in the mess.

"Ron, don't confuse the poor boy, he's lived all his life with Muggles, he doesn't know about that stuff," said Hermione, pulling them along so they wouldn't get late to Magical Creatures class.

"Blimey, I don't know too much about it either. Which is lucky I'm with you, because those unions only happen between males," said Ron, kissing Hermione on the cheek.

"Yes, well, boys seem to need more guidance, you know. In fact, I'm kind of your Erastes," said Hermione, winking at Ron.

"Will someone PLEASE explain to me what the hell Erasmes, what union? What? What! What! What! What!" screamed Harry, making a couple of first year girls scatter like frightened mice.

"Erastes, anyway, no one uses those words anymore. The whole thing is awfully old-fashioned if you ask me. Anyway, Harry, we'll tell you afterward, during lunch hour, perhaps?" said Hermione, walking faster and pulling them both by the arm. "No time now."

Plato.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I pretend Harry is mine, but I'm delusional. I hope you're not delusional and think that if you sue me and get more than dirty boxers.

That's right, I'm too poor to buy detergent. (Not really, but lawyers are Satan.)

I really like reviews, so dish em' out. I'm greedy. Don't worry, you don't have to review, I'll still post chapters even if you don't.

Warnings:

Rated: R

Short chapter, sorry people. The muse left me, the vagrant hussy.

Also, I apologize for my horrible poetic abilities (or disabilities).

Chapter IV

"Every dumb animal copulates in one way only, but we, endowed with reason, have the advantage over animals in this—we invented anal intercourse. But all who are held in sway by women exclusively are no better than muggles."(Stratonis the Bent, Wizard's Antologia of Eroticarma, XIII, 245).

Finally lunch came around and as the seconds trickled away waiting for Hermione to come out of the library, Harry and Ron talked about everything from the new model broom to how the best new Quidditch players recently seemed to come from Bulgaria, until they finally arrived to the subject of the Hogsmeade visit and started comparing notes on snogging techniques.

"But would you like that?" asked Harry, curious to see Ron's point of view.

"Well, if you do it that way, I'm sure I'd like it," said Ron, frowning. "But you know, if we were in another Wizarding school we'd be talking about this in class. I've heard that in France they have an Erotic Magia class, that would be really brilliant wouldn't it? Here you're pretty much on your own."

"We could go peek into the Restricted Section," said Harry, bracingly.

"Nah, I'd rather leave Hermione to poke around those dusty scrolls. I can barely understand the curlicues and squiggly calligraphy, let alone what the words actually mean," said Ron, scratching his head and stretching his gangly legs in front of him.

"Ron, I just remembered something. Why did you mention Percy, when you spoke about the Erasmes union—

"Erastes, Harry, Erastes, we may not know what the word means, but the least we can do is pronounce it correctly. And yes, I think Mum was hoping that if you married anyone it would be Percy. We all kind of thought you would, since you don't have a dad and all. If you don't like Percy, you could always take Fred and George," said Ron, nodding in a comically wise way.

"Marry? Ron, you're kind of scaring the hell out of me here," said Harry, his eyes widening like two saucers, "and you meant Fred OR George, didn't you?"

"What? They're twins, Harry, really," said Ron as if that explained everything.

"Hi boys. Finally I'm here," said Hermione with a few scrolls under her arm. "Well, come on."

"Blimey, Hermi," said Ron bouncing up, "those look old."

They went outside, sitting under a tree with Butterbeer and sandwiches they had gotten by way of Fred and George, and sat to listen as Hermione read.

Opening one of the scrolls, Hermione flipped her hair away from her eyes and said: "This one is pretty good, very simple and doesn't overwhelm you with latin terms you might not understand." She cleared her throat and began:

"An Erastes is a Protector,

He must guide and then inspire,

The Eromenos, inexperienced,

He must listen and inquire.

The Erastes and Eromenos,

Through the union of two bodies,

Friend the Power Eroticarma

That only Love-Sex embodies.

The Erastes and Eromenos,

Through the union of their souls,

Find the Safety and Protection,

Embedded within these scrolls.

The union of Body and Soul,

Mimics the very creation,

Of Matter, of Spirit, of Magic,

That awakes the Arousal

Of a male body's Erection.

Let the Union of the Two

Be in a Love so distinguished,

For this Union is Eternal,

And only by Death extinguished."

Hermione closed the scrolled and looked at them, apparently satisfied.

"I don't get it," said Ron with a full mouth.

"Me neither," said Harry, swallowing some butterbeer.

"Ok," said Hermione sighing, "I'll explain, but don't you dare interrupt me until I've finished. I'll only tell you once. Cedric wants to be your Inspirer. This I know because Kane told me, he also recommended I tell you to dissuade Cedric from the union. In my humble opinion, this is a mistake. Kane's just obviously worried that something will happen to Cedric, as your Protector. Ever since they went against You-Know-Who, they coincidentally have not met with natural deaths. They all die from some sort of accident or other, which is why the Ministry is advising against these apparently star-crossed unions."

"I don't understand," said Harry frowning, and shoving a sandwich into his mouth.

"If you stop interrupting, maybe I could tell you," said Hermione looking sternly at Harry and Ron. "These are all Athenian and Spartan terms which are used to label the union of a man with a boy, or an older boy with a younger boy. There must be an age difference, because the Older One must feel protective toward the Younger One, who must behave subserviently. It cannot be a union between equals or there would be no one to inspire and no one to listen, there would be a power struggle which simply does not exist in the Dualism of Erastes/Eromenos."

"What?" said Ron, squinting at Hermione.

"You idiot! Cedric wants to Protect Harry and wants to unite with him body and soul. That Union is created through magical vows, in which the Protector vows to protect and die for the Beloved Protected and the Beloved Protected Eromenos vows to obey and die before dishonoring the Protector. It's a way of protecting Harry and guiding him into manhood."

"Oh," said Ron smiling, "kind of what you're trying to do with me?"

Hermione laughed, relenting, "Exactly, love. The thing is that even Muggles adopted this custom in the time of Ancient Greece, when Wizards pretended to be Gods so that Muggles wouldn't try to eliminate them or make wars against them. Then came the Wizard Yeshua, who got himself crucified and resurrected so as to ferment the belief of Wizards as Messengers of the Gods. Ironically, his cult started rejecting Wizardry and little later the Laws of Secrecy were instituted so that we all went underground after that."

Something sparked in Ron's eyes and he said, "Hermione, is it true that the Malfoy's are descendents of Aphrodite?"

"Who knows, it might be true it might be rumors, but Athena strike me if I'm going to ask the little git."

"What about the seed?" said Ron, looking at Hermione with an expression of curiosity on his face.

"That's part of the Union, Ron. I we should leave that to Cedric," said Hermione, in a quiet voice.

Harry felt puzzled and apprehensive, but didn't really want to know more at the moment. He felt it would clear nothing up in his head and just confuse him further. "Drat, I have to go meet Professor Lupin, he promised to show me how to get rid of the sodding Dementors," and with that the black-haired boy sprinted away.

Strato the Historian


	5. Chapter 5

Warning:

Rating: R

Not mine, don't sue.

Sorry for a probable Gary Stu.

Please Review.

Thank you to all those who have reviewed so far.

Chapter V

I am my beloved's, and his desire is toward me. Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field; let us lodge in the villages. Let us get up early to the vineyards; let us see if the vine flourish, whether the tender grape appear, and the pomegranates bud forth: there will I give thee myself. (Song of Songs, Anthology of Eroticarma)

On that morning Harry woke up with a strange sense of foreboding. All he could think about was how he'd been having a wonderful dream and that it had been ruined by the presence of the Grim. The reverie had begun in Professor Lupin's offices, where he was trying his best to come up with a decent patronus. He kept falling short, and had become quite bored with collapsing when suddenly he saw Cedric ridding up on a stag. Cedric had said, "Professor, I'm quite aware that fighting dementors is of great interest to Harry, but could it be possible for him to be let off early so that he can practice his erotic skills with me." He had gaped at Cedric, but Professor Lupin had seemed very unruffled by the whole thing, and advised though that they should probably stop by Honeyduke's in order to buy some melted chocolate. Harry had climbed on the stag, in a surprisingly natural way, sitting in front of Cedric and they had gallivanted their way out of Hogwart's in full view of everyone.

After a while, sitting on the stag had turned into an awkward affair, for the older boy, with the friction of riding and the pressure of Harry's arse against him, had become fretfully aroused and taken to pressing his budding erection into Harry. "I know I should apologize Green-Eyes, but it's awfully hard—difficult to feel sorry about something so pleasurable don't you think?"

The Boy Who Lived assented wordlessly, bearing his weight down into the other boy's crotch. They arrived to the secluded patch of grass Cedric had prepared for them and commenced summarily to devour each other. Tongues lashed out like scalding, tender whips of flesh, lips locked mouthing promises of penetration, bodies pressed against each other in tender affirmation of desire. Harry felt himself topped and went immediately to the source of Cedric's desire, using his hands to stroke the golden boy's firmness...until the blasted Grim had arrived to ruin his otherwise delectable little wet dream.

Cedric had immediately gone into combat mode, pulling Harry, who had inexplicably left his wand in Professor Lupin's offices, behind him. "Get away from here you—you Mangy Omen of Destruction!" Cedric had yelled, wand in the air, hair tussled, mouth bruised and swollen with now forgotten kisses. Even in the dream it had seemed like an incredibly awkward line, but what the hell, he had looked perniciously delicious acting all fierce and protective like that. The Grim had pounced on Cedric at that moment, and if Harry had not been sick with fright and worry, he would probably not have blamed it. Rawr.

Sweating, Harry sat up in his bed and had to use all of his self-control not to run down to the Hufflepuff dormrooms to see whether Cedric was, in fact, alright and bite-free. It was awkward to wake up aroused and frightened at the same time, but he supposed that now Cedric was in his life he would just have to get used to it. He used the morning time that he was now reserving for hair-combing, to masturbate. He didn't need too much coaxing-- the image of Cedric pressed against him had been more than enough. Looking around the room he saw that his other room-mates had returned.

"Are you guys still camping out at the girl's room? Is it true Hermione tricked the stairs into believing everyone who stepped on them is female?" said Harry, wiping his hand.

"Yes, and yes, Harry-dear," said Seamus, rubbing his eyes yet looking contented.

"The girl's room doesn't get old?" said Harry, deliberately baiting the boy.

"Well, matey, unless you've got something for us, I figure mining for oysters shall never get old. I'd be interested in eating some shrimp, though, if I was offered."

"You're disgusting," said Harry, laughing.

"Yeah, and what were you wiping out of your hands there, bitty. Shrimp juice?"

"Percy," said Oliver stroking his lover's back, blowing breath into Percy's ear.

"Hmmm," groaned Percy, burrowing his face further into the pillow and refusing to open his eyes.

"Are you going to court him?" whispered Oliver, scooting closer to the other boy and putting a leg over his torso.

Percy opened his eyes, turning and disengaging himself from Oliver's legs in a seemingly accidental way. "I have to."

"You have to? You don't have to Percy, not if you're with me. You can tell your mother you've found a lover," said Oliver, stung.

"Its my duty, Oli, she expects me to court Harry. You know how my Mum is about him, she adores the boy, she talks about him like he's my brother," said Percy, scratching his forehead aggravated.

"This is so pathetic, Percy, you're ready to leave me for him for some so-called duty to your family," said Oliver, ripping the blanket off his body, standing up and putting on his pants.

Percy remained on the bed, looking aimlessly, tears filling up his eyes. He had to do as his parents expected him to, he couldn't stand to be judged in a negative way, he couldn't stand to be looked down upon, or feel he had disappointed them. But somehow he had fallen for Oliver, not sure if it was love, lust, or some cloudy phase. "Oli, I have to try, he probably won't accept me you know, in the Rescuing, his friends won't let me take him and that will be that."

"That's not the point, Percy, and you know it," said Oliver, his voice thick.

"I know, Oli, but that's all I can give you. We had a good time, didn't we? I mean, really, what does Oliver Quidditch Maniac and Percy Future Head Boy could ever have in common," Percy said, still not looking at Oliver.

"We have nothing in common, Percy, you're right, but I really liked you and I know you like me because you've got to every single bleeding match since you've met me," said Oliver smiling bitterly.

"I'm sorry, Oliver," said Percy, as the door closed.

Harry stayed up that night tossing and turning and thinking about everything that was going on in his life. Dementors, Sirius Black, losing the snitch to a boy he had feelings for. And now this question about…a marriage? The black-haired boy realized that his Muggle life had not prepared him at all for this. He was experiencing all of these sexual feelings, but he did not consider himself sexy, or and he didn't know if he was prepared for it all. Someone who has lived within the Wizarding World his whole life, in that world of guiltless passion, that sex-positive world in which longing and consummation was seen as a wonderful, natural and magical part of life a young boy like him would probably be able to cope with desiring and being an object of desire for another boy or man. What would he do? Would he pretend? Would he reject? Would he…accept?

And what did it entail? He admitted to himself that he would have no problem making love to Cedric. He did not need even the promise of a permanent, committed union to have sex with Cedric, as his body was hounding him ceaselessly. But what about the vows? What about the obeying and protecting? The truth is that in all his life he had never really obeyed anyone. He had done certain things and behaved in certain ways in order to evade abuse or punishment, either from the Durseley's or his professors, but obeying implied the voluntary surrendering of his will. Harry wasn't too sure he wanted to surrender, or be protected by this boy he didn't know that well. Would Cedric's vow inhibit him from doing what he wanted to do? Why should he have an innocent bloke like Cedric get into the very dangerous position of protecting him? What would Cedric do if he knew Sirius Black wanted to kill Harry? And what would Cedric do if he knew Harry was trying to find Sirius Black? With these thoughts the young boy fell asleep.

Reading the Wizard's Anthology of Eroticarma, Harry precipitously perceived that he hadn't seen Ron in quite a while.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?" said Hermione distractedly trying to finish her Arithmancy problems.

"Where's Ron?"

"Now you noticed," said Hermione, flipping a page.

"I've just had a couple of things in my mind, what with having a murderous godfather after me and falling in—liking Cedric. I don't know if YOU'VE noticed."

Hermione chuckled half-heartedly, assenting and said, "Ron is helping out with the courtship ceremonies, Harry. Everyone knows who'll be the victor, but they have to go through the ritual anyway."

"I'm going to be courted, now? What the hell, this all feels so old fashioned and—

"It is old fashioned," said Hermione jotting down some numbers in the parchment and finally closing the book. "That's why almost no one does it anymore. I mean in England, in France and Italy it's still very popular, but I don't think it has been done inside the walls of this castle since last century. Cedric, had his courtship during the summer…"

"Wait, Cedric was a Listener, an Eromenos?" said Harry, looking up sharply from an erotic picture he had been examining in his book.

"Yes, Harry, that's who died, his Erastes. His lover died last year," said Hermione with a sad look on her face. "That must have been terrible for him."

"Who was he?" said Harry, feeling bizarre at having discovered this unknown aspect of his friend's life.

"From what Kane has told me, he was an Auror called Gabriel Fiebre," said Hermione.

"You're friends with Kane?" said Harry, surprised.

"No, I don't think anyone is friend's with Kane, except for Cedric, though. Anyway, who cares about Kane? We're talking about Cedric, are we not?"

"I thought we were talking about Gabriel," said Harry. "You know, the more I learn about Cedric the less I feel I know him."

"You know him, I've seen you with him, you know him," said Hermione, smiling.

"You're thinking about Ron, aren't you?" said Harry, tenderly brushing a few strands of away from her face and accidentally caressing her cheek.

Startled by the warm touch, she looked into his eyes, "You carry around a very Muggle concept of the world and relationships. Muggles, my parents included"—you could tell she was getting warmed up—"think of sexuality as negative and positive, as do we, but for different reasons. They, because sex creates life and pleasure, but also diseases and death. Such diseases are easily cured and prevented through Magic, but we witches and wizards know that in sex lies the deepest magic over life and death. That sex is always inextricably linked to love, no matter how much we may run from it, and Love…well, Love is a double edged sword if there ever was one."

Harry looked down at her lips cowered by the intensity of her eyes, and felt the perverse desire to kiss her, "I want to kiss you Hermione, I don't know why."

"Your sexuality has awoken and you're suddenly finding it everywhere," said Hermione, a light blush painting her cheeks.

"Can I kiss you?" said Harry, still looking at her lips.

"No, you can't, but thank you, Harry, it would have been immeasurably sweet," said Hermione, opening his book and pushing his head into it. "Read, Harry, you'll need it."

The Bible


End file.
